The Words to Our Story
by Violet1996
Summary: Modern day AU where Will and Tessa become friends over the thing that tries to kill them: cancer. This is pretty much The Fault In Our Stars with TID characters.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone! So, I know many of you are reading/reviewing/following Institue Prep, and I want to thank you guys for the attention. I recently finished reading John Green's ****_The Fault In Our Stars_****, which was an amazing book. I would recommend it to anyone. Then I had an idea that went like 'What if this was Tessa and Will?' and wa-lah, this story was born! This is sort of a TID and FOS mash-up, with the plot of FOS but the characters of TID, with some mixing up from yours truly. Enjoy!**

**And yes, I am going to be working on Institute Prep along with this story. ;) **

* * *

I cross the street, not bothering to look both ways. I can't hear a single car coming in either direction in this deadbeat neighborhood. Nonetheless, I try to cross quickly, but my oxygen tank begs to differ. I bet you can picture this scene. Some poor teenage girl, who usually receives pitying stares every time she leaves the house because of this monstrosity that I have lug on a cart behind me. But I don't care anymore. After all, I live and let live.

The library is open, as always. The librarian looks up when she sees me wrestling through the door. She smiles and waves, pointing to a room on the second floor. I'm here so often that this signal can mean only one thing; Jem's beat me here, and he's already up in the music room. I mouth a thank you to her as I decide to brave the stairs. There's some sort of finality amongst cancer patients in using the stairs; after all, at the hospital, they ride you up to your death room in the elevator.

I step into the music room after ten minutes of panting up the stairs. When I step into the room, Jem is already seated on a window bench, hounding away at the violin. I walk over to him and set my stuff down next to him.

"Jem" I say. His eyes, or eye rather, are closed and his music is loud enough to drown out any outside noise. "Jem" I say again. No response. "Jem, would you stop that infernal racket!" I shout as I close my hands around the top strings of his violin. He starts and then opens his eye. Once he realizes it's me, his face breaks into a grin. "Tessa" he grinned.

Jem is like me in many ways. He has cancer too, albeit in his eyes instead of his lungs. He tells me the story sometimes, of how he found out about his eye cancer. But that's a story I'll share another time. Anyhow, the cancer infected his left eye so badly that they had to take it out when he was twelve. He didn't let that stop him from continuing his passion for music. His music is his life. He still played the violin and even learned to play the piano after his surgery. This kid is literally a work of art.

"Now that I know that you're not going deaf" I reply sarcastically.

"Sorry T, but you know about my one true love, the violin" he mocked.

"Yeah, you guys are my OTP" I reply, rolling my eyes at him.

"Oh stop it. So how are you doing today?" he asked.

"Just grand. My lungs aren't drowning in fluid, thanks for asking" I said, my voice gentling. "How about you?"  
"Meh" he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"What does 'Meh' mean?" I asked, mimicking his movements.

"It means that the doctors did a PET scan on my other eye over the weekend. I have to have my right eye taken out too, because some of the cancer is coming back, and the nerves in that eye are damaged anyways."

"James" I said, reaching out to set a hand on his arm.

"It's okay Tessa. I can already play the piano with my eyes closed, but relearning the violin is going to be trickier."

We stay silent for a minute, lost in our own thoughts.

"Cancer's a bitch" I say, not knowing what else to add.

"Tell me about it."

We sit in silence for a few more minutes, the spring sun slowly setting

"I'll be right back" I say suddenly. "I'm going to go look for a book to read while I keep you company for the next hour or so."

"Okay. Oh, and I hope you don't mind that I invited my friend Will today. We've been neighbors for a while and he's obsessed with libraries and books like you are. I think you guys might get along well."

I rolled my eyes again, but this time when my back was turned away from him. Jem reminded me of my mother sometimes, who insisted that I go out more and try to make friends. She put me in a support group last year for kids with cancer, but that didn't end so well. The guy who ran the program was this snarky old man who had leukemia when he was in his twenties. You would think that someone who had cancer might be able to understand fifteen teenagers who had the same condition, but you couldn't be more wrong. The only good thing that came out of it was Jem, and after a lot of begging to both of our parents, we managed to drop out of the group under their good grace. But in turn, they made us promise to keep meeting up with each other, and that's how our Wednesday meetings came to be. I don't mind; Jem's always good company. He taught me the basics of the piano, and he's read many of the books that I throw at him every few weeks. Well, at least he _says_ he reads them.

Since I have no desire to trek back down to the main floor of the library, I roam the fiction shelves right outside the music room. I walk idly amongst the shelves, but I'm convinced my feet are ahead of my mind, because they pause right in front of the books whose authors' last names begin with D.

Dickens. Of course. There are still a bunch of his novels that I haven't read, but I'm in the mood to re-read something. As I am debating which book to bring back with me, _A Tale of Two Cities_ comes flying out of the shelf. I yelp and back away. There are no more books flying off the shelf, so I slowly look into the spot to see what had caused the book to fly. I'm met with a pair of very blue eyes, which disappear the second I look into them. '_Okayyy_' I think, shrugging and bending to pick up the book. I guess I'm re- reading _A Tale of Two Cities_ for what seems like the billionth time. I stand up and turn around, and I nearly run right into a stranger.

For the second time in the span of two minutes, I yelp. The stranger holds my arms so I don't topple over backwards as I crash into him. He looks down onto my face, his voice husky as he says "I'm sorry." _He's definitely not from around here_ are the first words in my mind. There was an accent laced into his already sexy voice, though I couldn't quite place it. But my thoughts come short as I look into his face.

He's tall, for starters, hovering just a few inches over me. He has this black, unkempt hair that feel neatly into his very blue eyes. The same blue eyes that peeked through the bookshelf a minute ago.

"Hey, you're the one responsible for the flying book" I say, slipping out of his grasp.

He smiles before he says "That's why I left that side of the shelf; so I could apologize for nearly molesting you with a book. And then I knock you over again. Some gentleman I am."

I wave him off. "It's cool" I say.

He looks around me at the oxygen tank sitting in the small cart. He raises an eyebrow and before I get a chance to explain, he says "Let me guess, cancer?"

I nod. "Hmmm, very good. I believe that you currently have a -1 point balance in my book. You've redeemed yourself a little with the right guess. But how did you know?"

"Because I'm no different" he says, lifting up the right leg of his jean to reveal a prosthetic limb.

"Oh"

"Yeah, osteosarcoma." He paused. "How rude of me" he added.

"Uh?"

"I didn't introduce myself. I'm William Herondale" he said, holding out his hand.

"I'm Theresa Adele Gray. But call me Tessa."

"Pleased to meet you, Theresa Adele" he said, shaking my hand. _William Herondale. Why does that name sound so familiar…._

"Wait, are you the same Will that's meeting James Carstairs here today?" I blurted out.

He nodded. "I presume you are the Tessa Gray he insisted that I meet. It's nice to meet you. Shall we?" he finished, gesturing towards the music room.

"I.. uhhh…yeah" I stammer. This is the first (most likely the last) time that someone this beautiful has paid attention to me. I know we usually don't use beautiful to describe boys, but trust me, Will was beautiful. A fictional hero sort of beautiful. I shake my head. There is no way that I am going to fall for a boy when I'm not going to be around long enough to make something out of it. It's harsh, but it is what it is. "What book were you going to read?" I asked, trying to ignite a conversation.

"Hemingway's _The Sun Also Rises_. I've been trying to pick up American Literature, but these authors were just goddamn awful. I prefer European writers."

"Are you European?"

"Yes" he chuckled.

"Where in Europe?"

"Ever heard of Wales?"

"I'm American, not ignorant"

"And the beautiful girl has a sharp edge. I'll have to bear that in mind next time we hang out."

I open my mouth and close it stupidly. How the hell am I supposed to respond to a statement like that? Fortunately, we entered the music room at that point. Jem was at the piano now, playing some melancholic tune.

"Good grief, as if we don't have enough reasons to be melancholy anyways" whispered Will, mirroring my thoughts. I watched as he walked over to Jem and tapped him on the shoulder. Jem stopped playing immediately and stood up, grinning at Will like crazy.

"Oh, so you respond right away when _he_ shows up, but when I arrive, it takes several shouts and a confiscated violin to get you to talk to me. " I say sarcastically.

Now it was Jem's turn to roll his eyes. "I see you've met Will. I wish I could carry the introductions out further, but I actually just got a call from mom, who wants to take me to the mall or something lame like that. My point is, I have to go. Have fun though. Will, are we still up for World War Z tomorrow?"

"Course Jem. Your place at 3?"

"See you then. See you next week Tessa" Jem added before he walked out of the room.

"See you too" I muttered as he left. Will laughed lowly.

"What?"

"You remind me a little of Rose from the Titanic. Bold, brash, pretty and charming."

"Thanks. I guess?"

He looked closely at her face before he said "You've never seen the Titanic, have you?"

I shook my head. I knew it was a classic, but romance movies sickened me.

"We should watch it" he said.

"What?"

"For a girl who has decent taste in literature, you sure do ask a lot of stupid questions. I said that we should watch it."

"You're really going to hang out with some girl you met ten minutes ago?"

"Theresa Adele I am trying to be nice. Don't aggravate me."

I shrugged and gave in. "Okay, when?"

"Like right now. Do you have any place to be?"  
I shook my head again. In hindsight, it probably wasn't my smartest decision. There was a chance he could be a serial killer or something like that, albeit that chance was low.

"Excellent. Come on, Theresa Adele. Let me take you to Herondale manor."

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**Let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**General Disclaimer: Probably should've included this in the first chapter, but if it's not John Green's or Cassandra Clare's, it's mine.**

* * *

We walked into the library lot silently. I figured I should call my mom before I went to William's place, because she'd probably have a hernia if I wasn't home in time for dinner. I leaned against the passenger door as the phone rang.

"Tessa?"

"Hi mom, it's me. I just wanted to let you know that I'm not coming home in time for dinner. You and dad go on without me, I'll eat later."

"That's fine sweetie. But where exactly are you?"

"I'm leaving the library with a friend of Jem's. He's cool; we're just going to hang out."

"Hang out?" I could sense her raising her eyebrows on the other end of the line.

"Just hanging out mom! Seriously" I whispered.

"Okay, just be safe. Love you."

"Love you too mom."

I put my phone away and slipped into the passenger seat. It didn't take long to get to Will's house, but here's terrifying fact number two about this boy: he can't drive to save his life. After almost running over 5 pedestrians, 2 squirrels and nearly crashing into a tree, I started clinging to the dashboard for dear life.

He smiled and looked ahead. "I didn't pass the driver's test the first time around."

"Geesh, I wonder why" I reply sarcastically.

"Truth be told, I shouldn't have gotten it the second time around either. Probably a cancer perk" he said shrugging his shoulders and skidding around a corner.

Cancer perks. The sentiments that drive people to give cancer kids the things regular kids couldn't: passes to amusement parks, grade inflation, driver's license, the works. I gulped as he started to slow down.

"So where do you go to school?" I ask. If he's in school, that means he's in remission. He's healthy.

"Alymer High. How about you?"

Well, Tessa has never been to high school, having been diagnosed with cancer at 13 and nearly dead at 14. But I did get my GRE a year ago, so I've been taking some classes at the nearby community college. I told him that.

He quirked his mouth up in one corner. "College girl. Sweet".

I punched him in the arm, and I probably wound up more injured than him. Jesus his muscles were hard. I wrung my hand while he pulled into his driveway, relieved to get out of the car. He led me through his house into the kitchen in the back. There were words plastered onto everything. _Where your treasure lies, there will your heart be also_ was inscribed onto a metal hanging on the wall. The words _The best and beautiful things cannot be seen with the eyes, they must be felt with the heart _were on a magnet on the fridge. William noticed me reading. "My parents like to put encouraging statements up everywhere. And I mean everywhere" he said.

* * *

His parents call him Will. Will is a carbon copy of his mom, who happened to be pulling brownies out of the oven as we walked into the kitchen. His dad was mixing together a salad on the countertop in front of the sink. They both acknowledged that Will was not alone, but were waiting for him to make the introductions.

"Mom, Dad, this is Theresa Adele" he announced.

"Just Tessa" I said.

"Hi Just Tessa" his dad said, grinning and waving salad tongs at me. The only thing Will seemed to have inherited from his dad was his long limbs. His dad was this blond-haired man who didn't seem to age the way most parents do.

"How's Jem doing?" he asked, glancing towards Will.

"Just dandy, except for the fact that he gets his other eye poked out next week."  
"Willllll" his mom said with a warning tone.

He shrugged and walked over to his mom, wrapping an arm around her neck and kissing her on the cheek. "I mock and I tease, but Jem's important and you know that," he said.

She smiled and looked up at me, letting Will's comment slide. "I presume you're joining us for dinner?"

I nodded. "It looks like it. But I have to be home by ten; I have a curfew."

The conversation over dinner involved mostly Will's parents talking to me about everything from his cancer (which was awkward), to my education (at which point Will interjected that I was a college student) and the weather ("We haven't had an April this warm since 2008!" exclaimed Will's dad). The brownies that his mom ("Call me Linette" she told me when I tried to call her Mrs. Herondale) had made earlier were set on the table for desert. Will's jaw dropped when I told him I'd pass.

"No brownies for you? Mom's brownies are like the pillows of the Gods infused with chocolate and sugar, dripping with an antidote that can cure the most poisoned of hearts."

"I'm sure Linette's brownies are great, but I'm just not a fan of chocolate. I never have been." I said.

"Which planet doth thou come, devil creature?" he asked, his Welsh accent dripping with mockery.

"You could take a page from her book, Will. You go through enough chocolate to feed Napoleon's army during the winter of 1812" his dad added.

Will stood up and wiped his hands on a napkin. "Well, Tessa and I are going to go watch Titanic in the basement so Tessa can meet her spiritual doppelgänger in the form of Rose" he said.

"No, you're going to watch it in the living room" his dad said.

"But I want to show Theresa Adele the basement" he insisted.

"Just Tessa" I interjected.

"So show Just Tessa the basement and then come back to the living room to watch Titanic" his dad said, throwing a wink in my direction.

Will let out a dramatic sigh and pressed the back of his hand to his temple. "Fine" he said curtly.

I followed him down the steps to the basement. It wasn't huge, but it was the perfect size for a bedroom, which explained why his dad didn't want us watching the movie down here. There was a shelf running around the room with certificates, photos, trophies, medals, mementos and books. Dozens upon dozens of books. His bed, which was just a mattress pushed against the wall, was unmade and scattered in clothes. There was a television mounted on the wall across the bed.

I picked up a photo frame. It looked like it was taken recently, because the Will in the photo looked exactly like the one making his bed. He had his arms wrapped around two girls, all three of them grinning into the camera.

"William, who are these two?" I called across the room, tapping on the glass with my index finger .

He turned and saw the photo in my hand. "My sisters" he said, walking over to me with a smile on his face. "The one on the left is Cecily and the girl on the right is Ella."

"Where are they?"  
"Ella's twenty-two, and she just finished college. She's in Chicago, working in something very fancy and living with her boyfriend Axel."

"And Cecily?"

"Boarding school. We were close, but cancer has a way of ripping apart more than a body. I think she was tired of being neglected by mom, dad and Ella. She went through a rough patch with some bullies and didn't have a lot of support because my family was too busy trying to save me. So she went to Hotchkiss in Connecticut."

"Oh". I wish I had kept my stupid mouth shut. I set the photo back onto the shelf and looked at the rest of the shelf.

"You must've been a good soccer player in order to get all these awards" I said.

"First of all, it's _football_. I don't understand why you Americans call it soccer. I used to play a lot of pick-up games when I was in Wales. It just sort of carried over when we moved to Boston. The paraphernalia are all cancer perks. That ball in the corner was signed by David Beckham, and I have a Ronaldo jersey somewhere. Anyhow, I was an offensive player, but I sort of gave it up one day when I was kicking a line of balls into a goal. I wondered what the hell I was doing, just repeatedly putting a circle through a rectangle. It was stupid" he said. He was now sitting cross-legged on his bed, leaning back on his hands.

I took a seat on the edge. It wasn't a suggestive act; my lungs are just really feeble. "Was this before your diagnosis?"

His mouth quirked up in the corner. "Then there was that issue. This happened about two weeks before I got my leg chopped off. It put a lot of things into perspective. I was existing, but I wasn't doing anything by playing football. Sartre wasn't crazy when he came up with existentialism."

I liked him. I knew then that I liked him a lot. I liked the way he said _existentialism_, and the way he treated his parents and how his voice made my skin tingle and ears ring.

"So what's your story?" he asked suddenly.

"I was diagnosed when I was-"

"Please don't tell me you are one of those people who become their disease. What's your most favorite activity? Start there."

"I like to read" I said automatically.

"Now we're getting somewhere! Do you read science fiction?"

"No"  
"How about fan fiction or non-fiction?"

"No and No"

"Do you like the classics? All the romantic literature rubbish?"

I dramatically pressed my hand to my chest. "As someone who functions off of the 'romantic rubbish', I object to that!" I said.

He grinned and scratched his head. "Okay, so recommend a book. I'll let you critique Otranto in turn."

He walked over to the dresser and pulled Otranto out from… was that his underwear drawer? He also pulled down the Titanic from a nearby shelf before he sat on the mattress again.

I thought for a second before I said "Read A Tale of Two Cities. It's my favorite."

He nodded and offered me a hand to pull me to my feet. "Alright, I'll read it right away. Let's go watch the Titanic before you miss your curfew."

* * *

His parents were conspicuously absent as we sat on the couch and watched the movie. There was a bowl of popcorn between us. I tried not to reach into the bowl whenever he did, but I wound up skimming his hands anyways. I think he was enjoying it. Who knows.

Anyways, I decided that maybe I did like romantic movies after all. Rose was a delicate rich girl, but Jack brought out the tough and brash side of her. The movie ended half an hour before ten. Will offered to drop me home, but I said that I'll drive while he sits shot-gun. I was not willing to risk my life again.

When I pulled into my driveway, I leaned back in the seat to catch my breath. Kissing him was definitely running through my mind. I wonder if he was thinking about kissing me to. I blinked my eyes to get rid the thought. I was not going to kiss him, not when I had a very good chance of leaving him. So I smiled and grabbed the book from the back seat.

"Theresa Adele, it has been an absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance" he said, winking on the last bit.

"Ditto, William" I said. I'm not as smooth with words as he is. In hindsight, I just sounded plain stupid.

"So will I see you tomorrow then?" he asked.

"Patience is a virtue" I said.

"That's why I asked about tomorrow. I would've liked to keep talking to you now."

"You really want to talk to some girl you picked up at the library?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"Only if she'll let me. But in the meanwhile, I have a Victorian era masterpiece to read."

"How about I call you when I'm done with Otranto?"  
"But you don't have my number" he said.

"Don't play stupid, I know you wrote it in the book" I said, stepping onto the pavement.

He gave me a crooked smile. "Didn't I say I wanted to keep talking to you?"


End file.
